


Carpe Diem (Neal is a Bat)

by SammiPheonex



Category: Batman - All Media Types, White Collar (TV 2009)
Genre: Assassin Damian Wayne, But he comes back, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Character Death, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Neal Caffrey, Guns, Knives, Tea, Tim is Neal Caffrey, Time Loop, so its okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:16:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29846934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SammiPheonex/pseuds/SammiPheonex
Summary: A collection of one-shots where Neal Caffrey is one of the four batboys. Please drop suggestions or prompts for one-shots and I will write them!----“Oh, do you not like peppermint?” Damian tilted his head, feigning confusion. “I’m so sorry Todd, I do not have any other teas that you would find satisfactory.” He took a long sip of his tea.“You're such a fucking bastard.”“You do not have to be here.”“Fuck off Demon Brat, I’m not leaving until I get a proper cup of tea,” Todd declared.----Full of misunderstandings, confusion, and reveals.
Relationships: Elizabeth Burke/Peter Burke
Comments: 44
Kudos: 150





	1. A Demon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: guns and mentions of death

Damian Wayne had a lot of things in his life that he kept a secret. One of his secrets just happened to be his own identity. 

White-collar crime was interesting to some people, none of those people were raised as assassins. Damian was done with his paperwork, he wanted to go out and con someone, have some fun, loosen up. Sadly, Peter Burke didn't have any fun cases.

Or he didn't until he did. 

“Neal, my office. Now.” Peter pointed Neal to his office. 

Neal Caffery wasn't one of Damian's favourite alias’, Neal Caffery was boring, compared to his usual lifestyle. Mortgage fraud and embezzlement with the occasional murder thrown in was exciting but not as exciting as jumping off buildings and punching drug dealers in the face. 

Neal walked up to Peter’s office. He walked right in, “So, what kinda case you got for me?”

Peter smiled at Neal’s cocky attitude, “You ready to do some real work?”

“Not paperwork?”

“Not paperwork,” Peter assured him. 

The case was strange, Neal got a very bad vibe from the whole situation. 

Apparently, some higher up in the FBI had almost been assassinated because he owed some Russian guys money. Damian could fit into the hitman life, but Neal hadn’t the need to do that, and Peter didn't know he could. 

“So does anyone have any ideas on how to track down our hitman?” Diana said to the conference room. “Because I have an idea, but if anyone else has one we should all have a go this time.”

“Make it interesting with a Franklin?” Jones asked.

“What's the bet?” Neal wondered.

Jones threw his money into the middle of the conference table, “Whoever’s idea gets picked gets the money.”

“Then you better win or you’ll be short a hundred,” Neal said, throwing his money into the middle of the table.

Diana threw her money in too. 

Somehow Diana walked out of that room with an extra two hundred dollars in her pocket. 

The plan was simple, which meant that things were going to go wrong. Neal was going to have to blend in with the hitmen. Damian could do that in a heartbeat. Neal, however, was a different story, he didn't have the background that Damian had, he was going to get killed. 

Which meant that he had to break his cover, or add something to it. Since he was working with the FBI for the purpose of weeding out possible League members, it wasn't the right time to burn the alias, so Damian made the choice to add something to Neal Caffery’s backstory. Just a little, tiny, thing.

The team was sitting in the van, Neal was outfitted in one of his completely black suits, his anklet was gone, and he carried a, completely useless, gun. Damian had enough knives on him to take down an elephant, the gun was just for show. 

He walked into the bar and sat down next to the man in a leather jacket at the bar. He signalled for a drink and turned to the man next to him, “Names, Damian, Damian Halding.”

“Kane Romano,” the man said, reaching for a handshake. “So, Damian, what are you and that lovely suit, doing in this dirty bar?”

“Looking for decent money, what about you?”

“Looking for someone to pay.”

Damian walked out of that bar with a very expensive job and Peter on his back.

“That seemed too simple,” Jones said, as Diana nodded.

Neal smiled, “I’m good at what I do.”

“There is such a thing as too good.” The female smiled and stood up, walking out of the conference room.

Neal spluttered, “Wha- but, there is no such thing as too good!”

That night he met up with Romano in a dark coloured limo, who handed him a file. “This is the guy you want gone?” 

“The girl. Her name is Rachel Ferrier, she needs to disappear,” Romano told Damian.

“A girl?” He flipped open the file and read through it. “She’s 16! I don't make minors disappear.” 

_“Neal, you have to accept.”_

“Your pay will be about ten million.”

“Ten hundred million and you don't tell a soul it was me,” Damian said, pulling out his gun and readjusting it.

Romano sighed, “Deal.” He reached onto the ground, and pulled up a duffle bag, “I thought you might adjust the price. It’s all in there.”

Damian counted the cash and sighed, “Get out of the car. I’ll handle this.” Romano left. Damian spoke into his earpiece, “Why the hell am I going through with this?”

_“Just trust me, Neal?”_

“Ok.”

The limo stopped in front of a nice suburban house, the file said that the girl, Rachel Ferrier, was in the room on the other side of the balcony. “What do I do, Peter?”

_“Get out of the car and approach the house, signal the limo to leave without you. Just wait until we come and get you.”_

Damian followed Peter’s instructions. He waited in front of the house. It took about a couple of minutes for Peter to reach him and Damian jumped into the van and sat down as the thing rocketed away.

“He’s going to hire someone else to go after the girl, Neal, she needs to be secured in a safe house,” Peter was telling him. 

“Ok, so do that. The point of this was to find the hitman hired to kill Agent McTaggart, not protect some girl when her Uncle is trying to kill her.”

“We can't just let her die.”

“We don't have to.”

Damian had come up with a brilliant plan if he did say so himself. The plan was for the girl to go into the witness protection system and for Damian to tell Romano that Rachel Ferrier was dead. Damian needed a new job and, if so was there anyone Romano knew that needed someone to disappear. 

Apparently, there was someone who needed a high profile target dead, his name was Maxwell Vermillion. No one in the office believed that was his real name but Damian, being who he was, did not discount the use of an alias.

“Maxwell Vermillion, my name is Damian Halding, my friend, Kane Romano, might have mentioned me to you?”

“He did. What kind of angle are you playing, Halding?”

Damian fastened a confused look on his face, “What do you mean? What angle?”

“You have to have an angle to take a job for a Russian mob boss.”

_“We’re almost there Neal.”_

Damian rolled his eyes internally. What the hell are they thinking? “I’m taking the job for money, nothing else.”

Vermillion smirked, “You have ten hundred thousand dollars, you're set.”

“Am I though?” His voice returned to the icy cold that Damian was known for.

The other man laughed, “Okay, here's the file, you get the money once proof of death is sent to my phone. The number is in the file. The method of death is in the file, if you miss, or fail, the money will be deducted from your bank account.” Vermillion gave Damian a sharp look, “Well, get going. You don't want to miss her on her walk home.”

_“You need to get a confession out of him.”_

The assassin kept his face as neutral as possible, “Someone tried to kill this woman before?”

“That's none of your business.”

“I am the one who has to make a higher up in the FBI disappear,” Damian said. “You must let me know what I am going to face to kill this woman.”

_“Neal you need him to admit it clear and simple that he ordered the hit.”_

Vermillion sighed, and reached out his hand as if to take back the file. 

Damian thought fast and made a split-second decision. He pulled out one of his many knives and tapped the file with it, “I am not taking an extreme risk job without more pay.”

“Then give me back the file.”

“No. I want you to tell me what happened to the woman that would cause such a high level of security.”

“Mr Halding, you are a man for hire, are you not? You have been hired to do this job, why won't you move on and do it?” the criminal asked the assassin.

Damian's lips tweaked downwards before returning to a neutral position, “because you could never afford me.” He threw the file down on the table and began to walk away. 

_“What are you doing? Neal!”_

He turned at the last moment and threw the knife, impaling the file to the table, “If you want a Demon you have to pay for one.”

Vermillion stepped back in shock, “I’ll pay extra for the protection you’ll have to get past. I’ll do anything.”

“Did you pay someone to murder Amy McTaggart?” Damian was finally going to get an answer.

Vermillion sighed, “I did.”

“Okay.”

Peter Burke’s men filed into the basement and arrested Maxwell Vermillion (aka Jaques Martinez). Neal walked back to the table and pulled his knife out of the wood and paper. He wiped it on his sleeve so the polished metal wouldn't have any stray splinters of wood stuck on it. 

“Neal, what was that?” Peter said, his voice was in a tone of awe, but his face looked angry.

Neal plastered on his signature smile, “What do you mean?”

“That whole, knife thing?”

He twiddled the knife between his fingers before beginning to spin it on the tip of his pointer finger, “What, this old thing? I’ve always had it, I just thought I might use it.”

Peter placed his hand on Neal’s shoulder. If Neal had been Damian he would have shaken the hand off but he wasn't so he left the hand there. “What was that part about a demon?”

“Sorry Peter, you don't have the clearance level to know about that,” Neal said in a joking tone, but in reality it was true. If Peter had not been told about the League from his superiors it probably meant that he didn't have the clearance. 

“Fine, if you don't want to tell me, don’t.” Peter patted Neal’s shoulder, “You did well today.”

“Thanks, man, you did a good job of coaching me along,” Neal praised his friend.

Damian headed back to June’s apartment and crashed on his couch. These were the moments when Damian missed Gotham, missed Drake and Grayson, how they always knew the right thing to say.

He stood and went to heat up a kettle for tea. As he prepared it he thought about the mission, was it even worth it anymore? There hasn't been evidence of the League in the FBI in months, not since he told Father about the last member he discovered. 

Damian was shocked out of his thoughts by a knock at the door, he moved to open it and was quickly shoved aside by Todd.

“What are you doing here!” Damian yelled in outrage as Todd ruffled his hair and plopped on his couch.

“Just stopping by. I heard you took down a Russian mob boss today,” he said. “Have fun?”

Damian rolled his eyes, “No I did not have fun, Todd. I did work, which you should probably be doing as well.”

Todd smiled, “Are you making tea? I’d like some.”

“Jump off my balcony to your fiery death.”

“I knew you loved me,” Todd says as Damian handed him a mug of peppermint tea. He then sputtered, “I swear you're actually trying to kill me.”

“Oh, do you not like peppermint?” Damian tilted his head, feigning confusion. “I’m so sorry Todd, I do not have any other teas that you would find satisfactory.” He took a long sip of his tea.

“You're such a fucking bastard.”

“You do not have to be here.”

“Fuck off Demon Brat, I’m not leaving until I get a proper cup of tea,” Todd declared.

Damian shrugged and took another sip from his tea when another knock sounded against the door. Who else wanted to bother him?

He stood and pulled open the door, finding himself face to face with Peter. He pasted on Neal’s smile, finding that his face was so tired it felt more like a grimace than a smile. “Hey, Peter, what are you doing here? Don't you want to get home to El?”

“I just wanted to check on you, you seemed a bit off earlier,” Peter said, pushing his way into the apartment. Why are people with the name Peter shoving their way into Damian’s apartment?

Todd stood from the couch, his jacket in his hand, (when had he taken it off?) “I’m off to get you some good fucking tea, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

Thank god Todd realized that this was not a good time to be around. But it was too late, Peter was sinking his niceness claws into Damian’s brother and he wasn't going to let go. “I’m Peter Burke, you are?”

“Jason Todd,” he introduced himself as he pulled on his jacket. “I actually have to get going.” he shook Peter’s outstretched hand and left.

Peter watched Todd go, “So, why was he here?” His voice seemed a bit upset, did he think Todd was a criminal? He’s not wrong but, hey!

“He was just stopping by for a cup of tea,” Neal held up his mug and took another sip, relishing the warmth flooding through his body, he always ran cold. 

“Okay.” Peter sat with him for a moment before asking, “Is he a friend?”

Neal laughed, “No, he’s my older brother.” Damian tried to stop the words as they rolled out of Neal’s mouth, but it was too late, they were already out in the world. Peter had already registered them and was formulating his response.

“I didn't know you had siblings?” 

“Well, I do.” Damian was beginning to feel uncomfortable, “Peter, it’s getting late, you should get going.”

“Right.” Peter stood and walked to the door, preparing to leave, “You know you can trust me, right Neal?”

“I know, Peter,” Neal responded as Damian scoffed internally. He could only trust his family and even his family was unreliable at times. 

Eventually, Todd returned with chamomile tea. He made himself a cup and sat down right next to Damian who was in the process of falling asleep with a mug in his hands. “Do you want me to take that?” Jason inclined his head towards the mug.

“Sure,” Damian whispered. He let Jason put the mug on the coffee table and drape his jacket over Damian’s legs. “You don't have to…”

“It's cool, Little Demon, I want to make sure you're ok.” Jason patted his head, something that no one has done for him in years, “Go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake to keep you company.”

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... If you guys have any crossover ideas drop them in the comments!


	2. 1009 Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Death and time fuckery (also cursing)
> 
> Tim is Neal

Tim rolled his eyes. His brother, Jason, was texting him again.

**DeadLoser:** hey, so um… I’m in new york? Wanna get some food or smthing?

 **Timmyboi:** idk ill see when i have off from work and we can meet up

 **DeadLoser:** cool ill see u then?

 **Timmyboi:** fun

Tim was not going to have fun. He was tired, he still had work to do, and now his freaky murder brother wanted to hang out? Life couldn't be more strange.

Peter was going to ask questions, but Neal still asked for the rest of the day off, he knew that Jason wouldn't text unless it was an emergency. 

“What are you going to do with your day off?” Peter asked Neal, who shrugged in response. “There aren't any art galleries that opened recently, nor any new jewellery stores. So why do you want a day off?”

Neal smiled, “I just have plans.”

“ With a criminal?”

“No.” Technically yes. “He’s someone I met in high school, he wants to meet up for lunch,” Neal told his friend.

Peter gave Neal a little smile, “Is he an old boyfriend?”

“Ew, no. We just ran in similar circles,” Neal pointed out, before leaving through the door from which he came.

Jason met Tim in front of a Starbucks, the smaller boy stood in front of the cafe with a coffee cup in his hand. Tim was wearing the same outfit Jason remembered him wearing when he last saw him, a black hoodie, torn jeans, and a pair of black sneakers. 

“So, what are we doing here?” Tim asked Jason who shrugged in response. “You called me here, you have to have some idea what we're doing here?” 

Jason pulled Tim into an alleyway, “We need to keep this quiet, but there's a magic-user spreading magic throughout New York. They probably have no idea what they're doing, but they are creating new artefacts and selling them as normal objects.”

“What the fuck?” Tim swore as he pushed Jason out of his personal space. He didn't trust the other man, not even a little bit.

“The magic-user almost killed a kid.”

Tim let out a small breath in surprise, “Are they okay?”

“Yeah, they're fine,” Jason said as he backed away from his brother, making sure to give him some space. “But we need to find the magic-user before they hurt or possibly kill someone else.”

“Okay,” Tim acquiesced. “Let's go catch us a magic-user.”

They found themselves in a storage container. The person, Alli Martin, walked in and picked up one of those clocks that are cats and do the blinky eye thing (Tim never said he was good at describing things.). 

Jason leaned in closer and Tim wrapped his hand against the Batarang in his pocket, both of them were ready for whatever was to happen.

What they weren't ready for was for the door they were leaning on to give way. The two fell on top of each other, in a Batpile, if you will. 

Alli turned and threw the cat-clock at them in surprise. Jason, who was in the process of getting up, caught it, but his foot was still tangled in Tim’s lanky limbs and both disappeared in a flash of blue light.

~1

Tim opened his eyes, jumping up, prepared to fight any foe but found himself alone at his apartment in June’s house. He grabbed his phone and checked the date and time. Tim had messed with enough magic in his day to have an inkling as to what was going on.

The date was March 2nd, the same day he had just experienced. 

Was he stuck in a fucking time loop? 

How the hell was he supposed to fix this?

Tim pulled out a sketchbook from a drawer in his desk. He began listing all the things he remembered happening when he first lived through the day. 

*get text from jason  
*ask peter for day off  
*meet jason @ starbucks  
*go back to jason's safehouse and research  
*find evidence of Alli Martin and her storage container  
*go to storage container and get that cat thing that was thrown @ us  
*wake up here???

Tim sighed, checking his phone for the text from Jason. But he had to get to the white-collar office, so as to not be late. 

He could have sworn that the text from Jason came before he left for work, but no matter, Tim couldn't be late or Peter would barge into his apartment. 

Jason opened his eyes in his apartment and yawned, before remembering the day before. Where was the Replacement? Wasn't he there when Alli Martin threw that cat-clock at him? The clock must have transported him back to his apartment. 

He opened his phone to check his messages and was thrown by the date. Hadn't it already been March 2nd? 

He shrugged, getting dressed and grabbing a bag of baby carrots from his fridge to snake on as he got into his car. Jason liked motorcycles better than cars, but he usually ended up being the one picking Lian up from school and so needed a car with a booster seat. 

But Jason wasn't picking Lian up now, he was going to find the knockoff version of Varian (from Rapunzel, Lain’s favourite show). He drove to the address for the white-collar branch of the FBI. Jason remembered the addresses for all of the FBI buildings so he could take pictures in his helmet outside of them and send them to the FBI agent meant to be ‘dealing with the Red Hood.’

He parked his car outside on the street. Jason made sure to bring his baby carrots with him,, Replacement hated the sound of carrots being eaten. 

He barged into the office, “Anyone knows where Neal Caffrey is?” 

A man in a suit directed Jason over to a desk shoved in a corner, he sat there and munched on his baby carrots, fiddling with a rubber band he found on the floor. 

Senor Fake Criminal eventually arrived and did a double-take at seeing Jason. “What are you doing here?” he hissed.

“I think something happened, like a time loop or a re-do,” Jason told his brother, keeping his voice down so as not to alert the agents milling around.

“So, you remember yesterday too?” 

“Yeah.”

~20

Tim opened his eyes and pulled out his phone, immediately calling Jason.

“God, fucking damnnit!” Jason yelled through the phone as he picked it up. “I can't believe this is happening again!”

“I know!” Tim cried. “We did everything exactly the same as the first day, no deviations and we’re still here.”

“Maybe it’s time to fuck off and do whatever we want?” 

“Or maybe that’ll get us killed,” Tim said, ever the voice of reason. 

Jason seemed to think about it before saying, “Do you think we can die? Or is it going to be like ‘Groundhog Day’ where we can't die?”

“Let’s not test that.” 

“Common Timmers, wouldn't that be so awesome?” 

Tim rolled his eyes, “Of course it would be super awesome, but if we were wrong we would be dead.”

“Meh,” Jason said, his shrugging evident in his voice. “Death isn't that bad, it's the coming back that hurts like hell.” 

“Yeah, let's not try that.” 

~39

Tim walked into the white-collar office in his Tim clothes, not bothering with his suits, they were so uncomfortable. 

“Neal? What are you wearing?” Diana asked, confused.

Tim shrugged, “I was too tired to care this morning, so, this is what you get.”

~42

Jason coughed, blood spilling from his mouth, “It’s not that bad, Timmy.”

“You have a fucking hole in your chest!” Tim’s hands fluttered around the gaping wound, “Don't talk, Jason. I'm not going to let you die again.” 

“At least now we’ll know if we can die in this goddamn loop,” Jason whispered, before going limp.

“Jason? JASON!” Tim screamed at the loss of the man, who was just on the verge of becoming his friend.

~43

“That wasn't funny, you fucker.” Tim punched Jason in the face, “You’re not allowed to die again, okay?”

Jason laughed, “I'll try my best.”

~67

Tim gave up hiding his identity from the white-collar team. He walked in wearing a hoodie and guzzling a cup of Starbucks coffee, the bags under his eyes not concealed the way they usually were. His hair was a mess and his jeans were torn carelessly. 

“Neal, oh my god!” El cried, (why the hell was she here?) running down the stairs to make sure he was okay. “Did you get mugged?”

“Nah,” Tim said, taking another sip of his coffee, which was however many shots of espresso fit in a venti cup plus some milk and sugar for appearance's sake. 

Peter walked over, “Neal, you look awful. Bad night?”

“Considering I slept for about an hour it was a good night.”

El looked shocked, “What do you mean?”

“I slept fine,” Tim said. “Is there any paperwork or research to do? I’m bored.” He walked to his desk and plopped down, thumbing through the files.

Peter walked over and loomed over Tim in a similar way to Bruce, “Neal, what is going on with you?”

“Look, Peter, my name is Timothy Drake-Wayne and I’m the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. I have many other things I could be doing right now, so if you have something for me to do I suggest you bring it over so I can get to work,” he said before taking a sip of his caffeine and sugar.

~83

“Yo, Tim.”

“What?”

“We should go shoot some mob bosses!”

“No, fuck off Jason.”

~96

Tim lay next to Jason on the roof of June’s apartment, “Do you think we should confront Alli Martin?”

“Who?”

“The magic-user, the one who trapped us in this loop?” Tim reminded his brother. “Should we try that again?”

“Nah,” Jason said, staring up at the pale sky. 

“I wish we could see the stars,” Tim whispered. “The light pollution is so bad here.”

Jason turned towards Tim, “Do you have a favourite constellation?

“Probably Orion.”

“Mine is Cassiopeia, the story is just so funny and the way it feels in my mouth is nice.”

~104

“I’m Tim Drake-Wayne, fuck off.”

~135

“This is so boring!”

Jason sighed, “You’re not wrong.”

“Can’t we do something? Like, I don't know, visit the statue of liberty or steal the Hope diamond.”

“I mean, why not?”

So they stole the Hope diamond and hid it inside the statue of liberty, it wasn't as if anyone was going to remember it come ‘tomorrow.’ 

~182

“Do you think that each of the days we've lived has a Jason and a Tim who have to deal with the aftermath?” Tim asked his brother. The two were drinking boxed wine in Tim’s apartment, lounging on the couch as they laughed about silly things, such as octopuses (octopi? No its octopuses.) or dogs in sweaters. 

Jason cocked his head, “Like, a Tim who has to live without Jason? Or one where the Hope diamond is still stashed in the statue of liberty?”

“Yeah?”

“I don't know, but it's a good question.” 

~1009

“I’m getting tired, Jason.”

Jason turned, concerned, “Tim?”

“We do the same thing, again and again, and nothing happens. Its as if the universe is laughing at how stupid I am. I should be able to figure this out. This shouldn't be our life!” Tim yelled, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He blinked, trying to stop them from running down his face, but to no avail. Tim had begun to cry.

Jason wrapped his arm around his brother, “You’re not stupid. Please believe when I say you’re not stupid, you’re one of the smartest people I know.”

“When the fuck did we end up caring about each other?” Tim laughed, tucked into Jason’s side. “I don't know when but at some point you began to really be my brother. Like, when the fuck did this happen?”

Jason smiled, “Fuck if I know.”

Tim woke up, with Jason sitting next to him on the couch. He rubbed at his eyes, scratching to get the crusties out of the corners of his eyes. He shoved Jason aside and walked to the bathroom, running his fingers through his hair. He sighed as he brushed his teeth and did his business, before washing his hands on impulse and leaving the room.

Tim walked to the kitchen, beginning to make omelettes for him and Jason. Wait. Why was Jason here? Did things reset? 

He turned to the couch where Jason was lying halfway on the couch and with his left arm and leg all dangly-like. 

“Jay!” Tim shouted, pawing at his brother. “Jay it's tomorrow!” 

“Obviously, fuck off.”

Tim sighed, “No, Jason. It's TOMORROW!” 

Jason jolted up, hitting his leg on the coffee table, cursing, “Wait, is it actually tomorrow?”

Tim smiled, “It’s March 3rd!”

His brother grabbed Tim in a hug, wrapping his arms around his younger brother. “We did it! Somehow we did it!” Jason jumped for joy, almost literally. 

“Wait,” Tim yelled. “My omelettes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sponsored by Starbucks, despite the two mentions of it.

**Author's Note:**

> None of these have been beta-d so any mistakes are all mine. If you have a request for a one-shot please drop it in the comments! This was an impulse decision so it might take a minute to update, but I like the concept behind this crossover so hopefully, that will motivate me enough.


End file.
